AF (3/27/88 / New Brunswick, NJ)

Broken Glass

It shatters in the night.
shards lie on the floor
like a broken heart.
Some are blown by the wind.
twinkling in the daylight.
desperate to be free.

Others are swept under the rug.
torturing you.
waiting for you
waiting to cut a foot.
Desperate to leave a mark
a mark that you'll remember.

Sometimes I feel like glass.
Fragile and delicate.
Waiting to be broken.

by Ashlee Frisch

Other poems of FRISCH (3)

Comments (1)

I know the feeling Stu... great job...